“Up to his morning assholery; invading my personal space and making the whole house hellish for everyone,”

“Mind your tongue, young man,” Mom cautioned me sharply as she went about setting the table for breakfast. “He's older than you by a few years, so I expect you to show some respect!”

“Like he does show you respect. He's got complete disregard for you, Mother!” Lia retorted, chewing aggressively at an Oreo. She was still in her pyjamas, hairdo up in a bird's nest and white streaks cross-crossed her full face. “If he behaves like you're a rock, or some piece of invisible shit, then we'll behave as though he's a total stranger we're forced to share a home with.”

My stomach roiled painfully, but it was more nerves than from the smell of onion and garlic emanating from the kitchen. I wasn't happy knowing I'd be sitting across the table from Damien, and also at the knowledge that there was a knife nearby which would look really good thrusted into his chest should he talk to my mother whichever way he felt like or worse, abused her.

“Enough now, both of you,” Mom barked, spatula in hand. She whirled around to face me, her tired brows dilated. “I'm even more disappointed in you, Tim. How could you be so petty to speak of your elder brother like that? If Lia decides to act immature than her age, should you prove your maturity a shame by indulging her too? I expect you to understand better. It's all a new thing for Damien...he probably sees me as the enemy and blames me in some way for his parents not being together and I get that. But that doesn't give you and Lia any right to add to my misery by being hostile to him. If anything, you both should work together in making him feel more at home here. He has no right to treat you guys poorly... Just keep trying to get through him and see if you can get through to him just a little bit.”

Lia scoffed, her fork clattering on the edge of the empty plate as she stood up. “Too bad I just lost my appetite,” She muttered, rushing up the stairs.

“Lia, come back here!” 

“No, I'm tired of this whole...mess, I'm done and don't wait till I get back tonight because I'll never. Not until you put us first before your precious new husband and his sweet son,” She slammed the door hard.

With Lia gone, Mom turned to me with a look that spelt out — I expected better from you.

I simply shrugged. Of course I found it typical of Mom to try and act the good stepmother. I also understood the fact that for her to be truly happy, Damien would have to accept her, wholeheartedly.

Which really sucked. I mean, judging from the stats and basics, Damien had no right to behave like a god and want everyone to be okay with it. He had no right to make me feel helpless and insecure in my own home. He had no right to make me feel... useless.

“Now, I'd like you to get your arse up and try your best to get him to come down. And don't forget, I don't want to see your face till the end of the day. If he refuses to come down, you won't go to school.”

“But mother — ”

“No complaints else I'll ground you.”

As I walked up the stairs in the same fashion my little sister had gone up,  I couldn't help wondering how long this would keep up. How far Mom was willing to go to win Damien's heart. But as I journeyed closer towards my room that'd now become our room, I found myself sweating and out of my element. I didn't know if he was awaiting on the other side with an axe to chop my head off if I knocked.

I knocked anyway.

To my surprise, and apprehension, he opened up immediately. I glimpsed at the chaos that'd now become of my room behind him, as he took a low, slow drag of the clove cigarette he was holding, then slowly and carefully blew the smoke right into my face. His voice was low and dissolved in me whatever furnace I was ready to spit at him before. “Didn't expect to see you up so soon. What do you want?”

I tried to act like the smoke I'd inhaled weren't clutching my lungs, choking me as unclear words rolled off my tongue. “Breakfast is ready, and we'll miss the eight thirty bus if you don't hurry up.”

He was wearing a rough, black singlet that seemed about to snap under the tenseness of his muscles which he flexed about. My eyes were drawn unwillingly to a particular tattoo on his arm that read ‘Jessica’ which was now leaning against the door. His hair was more frizzy and a lighter shade of black than normal. His jeans hung impossibly low, showcasing more than half of his Calvin Klein black boxer briefs underneath. His steely gray eyes trailed my eyes with the preciseness of a cat. He was so stunning....it was so unfair.

I'd zoned out when he said. “Quit liking what you're seeing, fag... cause you'll never get it. Nada. Not ever. Zilch.”

I snorted. “I'd be stupid swooning for the likes of you.”

“Ah, don't act like you don't want me for breakfast instead,” he chuckled lowly. “Did I say I hate the way you wink at me? Like I'm some dumb boy who'd love to go down with you...sorry boy, I don't do shitholes.”

“Could you make the fact that you're straight any more obvious?” I bristled, a fierce challenge brewing in my throat. “It's like you're trying to convince yourself that you're not into dicks, whereas, maybe, you are.”

His previously impassive face hardened, making me realize that I'd struck a nerve. A dangerous one for that matter. “Mind your fucking tongue else I'll rip it out.” 

“Like you could touch a single hair on my body and get away with it.”

He barked out a laugh, unexpectedly, adjusting his hand position. “Ha, boy got guts, huh? I like it.”

“For the record, I was never winking at you. It was just a twitch, which happens whenever I'm irritated so get over yourself, asshat.”

His demeanor shifted to something close to anger. “Really? Well I suppose I'm really worse than the devil. I set off your buttons and make you and everyone else in this house uncomfortable.”

What really was he talking about? I stood there, frozen.

He continued. “What's the matter? Too sad in here for you?” Then he said in a mocking tone. “You don't think I've got a future, you don't think I can fit in anywhere except Forks? You don't think I deserve so much due to my shitty character and unstable background... you think I'm just an asshole who's too precious to be abandoned by his weak-arse father and an uncaring hooker of a mother, huh?”

Shit.

Those were the exact hate words I'd written about him in my personal journal.

He'd gone through the whole book. He'd invaded my privacy and seen things he shouldn't see!

My eyes twitched, body flamed up as smoke poured out from my ears.

He chuckled. “You look as though you wouldn't mind driving a knife into my heart. Chill. I just happened to come across it while arranging our stuff.”

Our? 

Since anger wasn't better managed in front of the relative cause, I immediately turned to go back downstairs, school be damned.

He yelled after me. “We'll definitely get along well, Tim fairy, seeing as I'm the devil, and you're of course, the gay angel.”